Encounters with the Elven King
by Aintaru
Summary: (COMPLETE) Originally a series of one-shots with the King of Mirkwood spun into a tale of Friendship, Angst and Romance. Will the King finally fall? Art by Kagalin @ DeviantArt
1. First Meeting

**First Meeting**

It was another busy day in the palace, and a female elleth found herself with kitchen duty for the first time in her young age. Well, she wasn't too young per mortal standards. She was one of the three ranked and proud knights under The Captain of the Guard, Tauriel. She was by far the youngest to reach such a high position so quickly. Her name was Isilmë.

The female was currently washing dishes, filling in for her sister who had fallen ill. It was rare when an elf got sick, or poisoned in her sister's case. She hummed a tune that filled the quiet cave-like system the Elf-King commissioned long ago by the dwarves. Twas before she was even a thought in her parent's conscious. They were like ants in a tunnel.

She easily forgot where she was before Isilmë began placing lyrics to the tune. Unbeknown to her, a certain King was making his usual rounds around the palace. Curious, he walked closer to inspect where such a voice was coming from before he heard loud and rushed footsteps running toward his direction. The song he heard ended abruptly as a clatter was heard from the kitchen.

Not quite sure what was happening, the Elf-King saw a lad running across another tunnel before Tauriel's auburn hair dashed past him in chase. His footsteps rushed forward to see what was going on before the lad from earlier crashed into an elleth with long raven hair. The bowl she was holding with clean silverware spilled everywhere, much to Isilmë's chagrin.

"Isilmë! Watch out!" Tauriel yelled as she dashed around Isilmë following the running suspect.

Without much question or hesitation, the Elf-King saw the elleth named Isilmë pick up two of the knives from the floor before she flung them towards the lad with ease and precision. He could see how displeased her features were as the lad yelped and fell over his feet. She grumbled under her breath as she collected the fallen silverware.

It was needless to say that he was impressed with the scullery maid, and though he knew all of his faithful subjects by name and face, he had never met Isilmë in person.

Tauriel stepped closer to Isilmë, the lad tied and with bloodied shins as she passed the elleth the two spread knives she had tossed. Isilmë looked up and smiled before she gave the lad a hard look. She stood with the bowl in hand, most of the silverware collected. "Always one to shoot first and ask questions later," Tauriel chuckled. "Isilmë, might I ask what you are doing here? Today is your day of rest, is it not?"

Isilmë smiled before responding, "Tis so, but my dear sister fell ill to a spider's bite. I am filling in for her, lest her duties fall behind" Isilmë shrugged, always the doting and elder sister. Another glint shined in her peripheral vision and she turned to collect it. Isilmë stopped mid-stride, placed her hand over her heart and bowed to her king, whom she had not noticed before. Tauriel looked past her friend and bowed her head in reverence, for her hands were currently tied. "My Lord, King Thranduil."

Isilmë kept her gaze low before she noticed a pale hand extend and give her the few remaining pieces of silverware. She thanked him under her breath before she tentatively looked at his face. This was by far, the closest and probably scariest moment of her life! She'd never been this close to the king before. She was normally a good twenty elves behind to see him.

So he was wrong then, the elleth was not a scullery maid after all. His face was placid and voic of emotion as his hard blue eyes fell on the lad from earlier. "What are his charges?"

"Besides breaking from prison," Isilmë muttered under her breath as she glared at the lad. The king's eyes glanced at her for a mere moment. Had she forgotten how sensitive elven ears were? Surely, that was not the case.

"He was caught hunting near our crops and injured one of the Great Elks before we were able to catch him and sound the alarm. He was not working alone. His two companions are still in the dungeons." Tauriel informed their King. It had happened that very day actually, the paperwork was still being completed and had yet to get to their king.

Thranduil rose an eyebrow as he gazed at the lad. His attention broke as Tauriel spoke again. "Well, since you are here, would you mind helping me with this one?" She looked at Isilmë with a smile.

Isilmë's eyes fell on the redhead before she nodded. "Of course, Captain. Let me return these then. I shall wash them again upon my return." The raven haired elleth smiled as she turned to leave back into the kitchen. "Oh," she turned quickly and bowed to her king once more. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you," Isilmë beamed him a beautiful smile before turning and disappearing.

* * *

_**A/N:** All rights to their respective owners. No beta._


	2. Second Encounter

**Second Encounter**

It was another normal day in the elven king's home. He found himself making rounds through the courtyard one fateful morning. It was customary and good for his soldier's morale to view their strong patriarch amongst them. But today, the Elf-King noticed that there was something missing. Usually when he came this far out into the training fields a voice would be singing, like a Shield Maiden singing songs of valor and peace. In fact, the voice was reminiscent of the one the king heard the previous month near the kitchen.

The Captain of the Guard and her ranked knights quickly saw him and greeted him accordingly. "There is a _hole_ in your ranks today... Tauriel," questioned King Thranduil. His voice was low and soft spoken, a trait the elleth knew could change rapidly like a flip of a coin.

The elleth placed her hand over her heart and bowed. "Yes, my lord. It is Isilmë. Her sister's condition may be worse than what was anticipated. We may just lose another elf to these poisonous beasts." Tauriel did not bother to hide the sadness from her eyes. Isilmë had no family here in Mirkwood but her sister, and Isilmë would curse the Valar if it meant bringing her sister back from death's window. "I fear the healers can do no more."

He turned to leave then; he would hear no more on the subject. Though he appeared as a cold and rigid king, he loved his people dearly. Time had made him the way he was. Yet, why was this matter not brought to his attention? Him? The king?

Isilmë sighed with frustration as she ran her fingers through her frazzled raven locks trying to push them back down into place. Without much success, she glared at the book before her as she was bent over a table reading and re-reading the damned thing. It told her answers, answers she could use! And yet, how could she? She had not the slightest idea on how to pursue this. But the pained and muffled squirms of her sister made her resolute in choice as she walked over to her sister's bed.

The two sisters were allowed home once it was deemed that Aurë, Isilmë's sister, would not make a good recovery -if any.

Isilmë silently prayed as she knelt over her sister's body.

By the time she was almost done, Isilmë's mind was no longer sharp to register what was happening around her; to her. Thranduil had felt a change and pull in magic, one too old to be commonly used. And when he arrived at Isilmë's house, he suspected the worse.

Old texts littered the tables and floors as he found the raven haired elleth kneeling next to her sister. Isilmë's skin seemed much too pale and her lips had a ghastly violet hue to them. His eyes fell to Aurë, learning the cause of what happened quickly with how much fresher the younger sister appeared. He called to his personal guard inside the small home. He was to take Aurë as he handled Isilmë. Doing as told, they all headed to one of the king's private healing wards.

He frowned at Isilmë. Her lack of knowledge could have easily killed her. Yes, an elf could help remove the stench through the means of old magic, but in doing so they had to poison themselves and release it... Or it could surely mean the end to them too.

Once both elleth were secured, his guard left to collect another healer but was stopped by the king's command. "I shall remedy this. Our healers have already proved the err of their knowledge once."

Isilmë's head lolled to the side as she dreamily looked around the room. She felt cold, yet oddly warm as she looked into the eyes of her king. Oh, she must have been losing it. Ever since their one meeting she had been seeing him everywhere, or at least imagining it.

Warm hands that seemed to glow hovered over her form before she fell into a deep sleep. If she only knew her second encounter with the Elf-King wasn't as pleasant as the first.


	3. Third Night

Isilmë woke up with a fright. It felt as if she was drowning in the hands of 1000 dead souls. "Aurë!" In her sudden and nervous awakening she called out for her sister. It was then she looked around and noticed that she was not home nor in any healing wing she could recognize.

Isilmë touched her face and hair to make sure she was not dreaming again. She pinched her cheek and proceeded to comb her fingers through her bed frazzled hair in an attempt to try and calm down. It was then that her sister appeared in the doorway. Upon seeing Isilmë sitting upon the bed Aurë threw herself into the other elleth's arms with a cry of surprise and relief.

"Oh dear sister. How fool of you to be. Had it not been for the King, you surely would have-

"King Thranduil?" Isilmë was perplexed. What had she done? Or worse, what had she said in her delirious state? It was obvious she was not dreaming of his eyes, as she had presumed.

"Yes," Aurë held her sister closer as tears fell from her eyes. "Had it not been for our king, misery would have surely taken me had death claimed you!"

It was with shaky hands that Isilmë comforted her sister. Unbeknown to the two elleths in the room, clear storm blue eyes surveyed the affectionate display as Aurë released her sister and took a step back. "I must inform King Thranduil. He will surely wish to see you."

Confusion marred the elleth's face. Why would he want to see her? A ruffle behind Aurë caught Isilmë's eyes before her gaze met with Thranduil's. Her sister looked back and smiled at the Elven-King before giving Isilmë's a final squeeze. She politely bowed as she headed out of the room.

Again, Isilmë was nervous. This was her _King._ How was she supposed to go about protocol now? She was no royal or squire to know such things. She was a warrior of fine breeding through and through. Rough, wild and untamed. What she lacked in sophistication she gained in skill.

Numbly, she greeted her lord as he walked over to her. Isilmë took in a sharp intake of breath and looked down reverently, locking her hands together. King Thranduil remained quiet, his face ever the same stoic mask as he looked her over. Her ears picked up the soft shuffles of the silk of his robes before she flinched in his presence. This did not go unseen by the king as he questioningly passed his finger across her hair line, removing some strands of her raven hair behind her ear.

"You have taken well to your treatment," the King hummed approvingly as he had tested her temperature.

"You... have. You have taken care of me?" Isilmë finally looked up at Thranduil, her chartreuse eyes meeting his once more. Pure and unadulterated adoration rolled off the elleth in waves at his nod.

"Indeed. The damage you sustained from extracting the poison has been completely removed. And your sister is safe and well, as you saw."

Isilmë couldn't hold back the sudden impulse as her hands quickly wound around his waist from her sitting position. Protocol be damned!

"Thank you! Thank you!" Isilmë held onto him as she whispered, "_Le fael_!" It wasn't very often Thranduil had someone brave -or foolish- enough to come close to him. Most feared their King and his temper, even if he was a loving King that did everything for his people. Thoughtfully, he placed his adorned hand on her head. He would allow it. Warmth wasn't commonly shared within his household often... He'd allow this one time. "I'm sorry," she whispered quickly and with a watery laugh as she released him. "I am just too happy and grateful towards you, my King. Please, if there is any need for where I can be of assistance I will gladly volunteer."

Thranduil looked her over as she did him. He didn't seem so cold as everyone made him to be. Strict? Yes. Cold? No. Definitely not.

The corner of his lip twitched. "You would do well to never try that spell again." He saw Isilmë's eyes shy away for a moment before he continued. "Unless taught properly. Though currently, you have my undivided attention on a different matter." He then inquired. "I find myself curious... How did you come upon Quenya tomes?"

Isilmë smiled. "My _ada_ lives amongst Lady Galadriel's realm. He is one of the scholars of Lothlórien now."

"Yet you are one of the ranked knights here. Why is this so, when you so excellently excel in the healing arts?"

To say that Isilmë was surprised was an understatement. He had complimented her in her failed attempt. Regardless, she answered truthfully. "I... I had never tried healing before."

The Elven-King nodded at her. "I see. Perhaps I can teach you properly then. An elleth with your gifts would be most invaluable amongst my halls." He then hummed his own approval before leaving a very dumb-struck Isilmë in the room alone.

* * *

_**A/N:** Just a thank you to Nina Vale for leaving the first review to these cutesy bits~_


	4. Dancing Quartet

**Dancing Quartet**

"The King will be overseeing the training himself!" Isilmë's melodic voice almost sang the words. "It is the highest of honors bestowed upon my family's name." It was true, King Thranduil would be teaching Isilmë how to properly manipulate old healing spells. To say that this news stirred a low buzzing commotion within the palace halls was placing it lightly.

The King had come across her latent talent as she sacrificed herself in healing her poisoned sister. Isilmë could have easily lost her own light had it not been for Thranduil. It was admirable of her to use old healing techniques, and impressive that she could tap into such roots, but foolhardy. She had never healed before; and warriors only knew the basics of first aid if a situation was ever dire.

"Forgive me, Isilmë." Tauriel spun her dagger in hand. "I am not as joyous with this news. He is taking one of my best." The Silvan jested with the raven haired elleth next to her as they sparred in the training grounds. There was only a pang of truth to her words.

"Come now, Tauriel," spoke the Prince of Mirkwood as he oversaw their training. He noticed Tauriel lose her footing when she unsheathed her second dagger; an opportunity Isilmë took as she slammed the pommel of her blade into Tauriel's hand. "My father is not so black of heart." A smile was on his face. This was truly a dance of blades. Both elleth circled each other, both in training and good humor.

"I know... He views the Woodland Realm as his top priority. I just pray he does not burden Isilmë with such as well." Tauriel maneuvered her lithe body out of Isilmë's attack, turning to come back down with her dagger.

"Legolas is right, Tauriel." The raven haired elleth swept her blade up, blocking Tauriel's attack. "Regardless, it has not been made certain if I am to be relocated indefinitely and leave The Guard. And if I am to be 'burdened' with such," Isilmë spun her blade, hooking Tauriel's in a vice before disarming her. She pointed the thin blade the the Silvan's throat and smiled with accomplishment as Tauriel held her hands up in defeat. "It will gladly be by choice. These will be brethren I shall be helping. I do not mind helping the King if it came down to such."

A slow clap emerged from Legolas towards the victor as he pushed himself from his seating position and into the ring with Isilmë. "Spoken like an elleth of the high court, Isilmë. Ada will be pleased to have you as a pupil." He smiled as he unsheathed and swung both of his daggers. "And I know I will see and hear much of you and your songs now." He joked. "I shall look forward to it then. Maybe even my father will open to your confidence and charm."

Isilmë heaved a couple of breaths to get her heart back under control. She was now to train with Legolas as Tauriel left the ring, taking the Prince's previous spot. "Oh doubtful. I've already made a fool of myself once... or twice. Even then, you must be quite blind, my friend. There is no charm in what you see here. Perhaps I shall ask the King if we can rectify your sight." Isilmë smirked at the playful jab she threw at him. She easily readied herself for his quick blows that soon followed.

Tauriel eyed them carefully with a smile on her lips. "Do not doubt your own beauty. You are of Noldorin decent with unusually rare eyes." She spoke this referring to herself and her 'lowly' class, as it had once been announced to her. It was something she kept well hidden and had never spoke about, but Isilmë could always pick the subtle hints that something about the topic disturbed her.

"Noldorin, Vanyarin, Telerin, Silvan. We are all eledhrim." Isilmë danced with Legolas, weaving in and out of his attacks until he blocked and flipped her over. "I do not doubt, but would rather remain unseen. My ancestry does not make me noble."

Tauriel smiled at her friend. Always making it seem as if class didn't matter with how rough she was. "But it does!" Tauriel laughed as Isilmë barely escaped the Prince's advances. "How is it you beat me each time we spar? Are you allowing him to win?"

Isilmë took her eyes off Legolas long enough to wink at the redhead. "He is the _Prince_!" She mocked. "I cannot defeat him. What will our people think?" Isilmë feigned horror at the thought.

The smile that seemed to currently be permanently etched onto the Prince's face only grew. "You hurt my feelings, dear Isilmë."

"Do not fret, my friend." His sparing partner was quick to answer. "Your skill with a bow will forever outmatch any I have seen within the Woodland Realm."

"Ha! Of that I have no doubt." Legolas smirked as he almost cornered Isilmë. He was backing her up against a wall as he displayed a quick flurry of thrusts and swipes. Currently, she couldn't do much but block his attacks.

Her muscles were burning as exhaustion was soon claiming her body. With a final up-sweep of her blade, she managed to make him stagger backwards. The contact of the three blades sparked to life. Soon after, she fell onto her rump with a huff and dropped her blade. Legolas and Tauriel laughed at her display as she sat back and joined them.

"Oh, Isilmë! Your face." Legolas' eyes were quick to see the angry red across her cheek as blood trickled down. He knelt down close to her to inspect it.

Isilmë stopped laughing long enough to touch it. She shook her head and shrugged. "Tis nothing," she tried to assure him.

"Such carelessness," a new voice broke the trio as the King mused to himself and walked over. Tauriel bowed quickly as Legolas nodded his greeting.

Isilmë was stuck on the floor, she didn't even have a chance to move before Thranduil took her chin in hand to inspect the damage himself. "It- It is really nothing, my King." Isilmë tried to reason through her nervousness. With this new proximity, she could easily see the different gray and blue shades his eyes held. How angular and sharp his features were. How pale and beautiful his complexion was. She swallowed roughly as he then looked into her own chartreuse eyes.

"Perhaps it is best your teachings start today. I would hate for such a fair creature to scar." His voice remained low and analytic even though he complimented her

The trio remained silent as Thranduil helped Isilmë stand and then proceed to lead her -by the arm- out of the training ring. She looked back once more before they were all dismissed and she was taken to a room she'd never seen before.

Legolas looked at Tauriel with a smile before they laughed. Oh. What had Isilmë gotten herself into?

* * *

_**A/N:** Thank you, again, to **Nina Vale** for leaving a review. :3_


	5. Your Friend

**Your Friend**

"You must relax."

"I apologize, my lord."

"Concentrate. Feel the energy around you." Thranduil smirked at her nervousness as he passed his pointer and middle finger over the cut Isilmë had on her cheek. "Do you try my patience?" He was definitely enjoying how easy she was to tease. Isilmë hadn't noticed yet.

Currently, the King and elleth were in one of his many private studies. He had led her away from her previous Guard training to commence teaching her the old arts of healing. It was a knack she had shown potential to being quite adept to; although, she almost killed herself while trying to save her sister. He noticed her fidget under his gaze as he seated himself before her, her face in one of his hands.

"No! Of course not, my liege. You are just..." The King caught her gaze as his eyebrow rose in question. She took in a breath and paused before trying to look away from his proximity. "You are my King. I know not how I am to proceed around you." She couldn't tell him the whole truth about how he made her too nervous and distracted to concentrate. Though, Thranduil didn't push on the subject either.

"Then do not think of me as such."

Her shocked eyes immediately looked up at him again. "How can I not? You are to be my mentor as well. It is much for one as low as I to take in."

Her humbleness was most endearing; though, it was misplaced. "Perhaps it is your most inaccurate yet humble view that makes you excel in the healing arts," the King mused. Isilmë looked at her King questioningly but knew she would not get an answer from him. "If you cannot view me as your teacher then perhaps you can come to view me as a friend when we are in private."

"As friend?" Isilmë tried to cock her head to the side but could not since the king still held her chin in his hand. "Do _you _view me as such?"

Thranduil paused in his ministrations and locked eyes with her again. He remained quiet as he mulled the question over in his head. The Elven-King did not have many he could, in fact, call friend. He was the King, and as such he did not have many come to him just for... spending time with him. Time he rarely had with all his official duties. Nor did he fancy the company of those who'd pass superior judgment over others for being in his presence.

He noticed Isilmë smile. "Perhaps you need one, my King. You have sat for far too long in silence thinking this over."

The King smirked at her haughtiness. "You think of me friendless?" Thranduil teased her even though it sounded like she had offended him instead.

"Of course not, you just asked me to think of you as a friend. Therefore, not only is it my loyalty you have, but my friendship as well, _Thranduil_." Isilmë smiled triumphantly at her King. Her sister, Aurë, would have thought her mad. In fact, Isilmë was quite sure the whole kingdom would have thought so. She would test her waters since the King was kind enough to point out they were in private. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, she thought.

The King rose an eyebrow, most amused. The audacity! Had it been anyone else, under any other circumstance, he was sure the outcome would have been much more severe than the slight pinching of her cheek. The skin easily became rosy under his touch and she beamed at him.

Her easy going personality was, if anything, a bit contagious. This was something Thranduil realized on their first or second meeting. "You _are _a little minx," he mused loud enough for her to hear. He appeared to be in good spirits with her so far. She'd heard first hand from both the King's son and from Tauriel how fickle his emotions could get. Isilmë was glad that she had yet to encounter that and hoped she'd be able to handle it if she ever did.

Scarlet dusted her cheeks and nose before she cleared her throat. "Yes, well... This little _minx _has some learning to do." She used her new moniker as she continued to smile at him. "Shall we go over the healing process once more?"

Thranduil chuckled, a noise Isilmë cherished greatly, for it was an experience she would probably not encounter again for a long time. Settling down, the air between them felt light as he finished healing her cheek and began explaining the method in which to heal... again.

* * *

_**A/N:** Thank you again to **Nina Vale** for the nice review and to EVERYONE who has either placed this in their watch or favorites. In less than five days it reached over 600 reads/views. Really, kind of, speechless about it all. I'm glad you're all enjoying it with me as well. Leave me some love plz~ :D I love back in return~_


	6. Hidden Intentions

**Hidden Intentions**

Six months and two weeks had passed since their first private lesson. Isilmë was to learn and take classes from the King himself when it came to the healing arts. But lately, the elleth could tell how futile her attempts had been and how frustrated the King tried not to be with her. In fact, their first time had been their only private session. Ever since word got out, one of his healers or counsel members would make sure to oversee the young elleth's training with him.

It was straining Isilmë to her limits. She hardly had the fundamentals perfected, let alone was she well versed in them; and yet these..._pests _thought it wise to distract her only time to learn! Did they think it wise to try and have the King council as he managed with the onslaught of a migraine and trying to teach the elleth ancient magic?

Thranduil knew something was amiss. He could see how she tried but something kept holding her back. Her attention was divided and yet he could not ease to help her. Then, the day came where she finally did not show up. He could see it in the way she carried herself, in the fatigue the air seemed to have around her, in the slight shallowing of her eyes as their color became dull. Her joy was slowly leaving her; her light, her flame...

A deep growl resonated from the King as one of his healers discussed the audacity and irresponsibility of someone who should be groveling and thanking the Elven-King's feet. Briskly, he stood. He would have no more of this nonsense. He was King! And if anyone was to bend or break protocol it would be him, dictated by him! Not by his advisors or healers thinking they knew best.

Tersely, he easily made his way to the clearing he knew she favored for her morning practices. This place, hidden from the palace and the camp under the cover of this leaves, was his first choice amongst many where he could find the elleth. It did not take him long as his prediction came to fruition.

Raven hair flew wildly behind Isilmë as she wielded her blade with a tenacity that could rival a woodland beast. Her movements were sharp and precise as her elven blade came down onto her 'opponent.' Her hair was kept up and out of her face; two warrior braids on each side of her temple and one in the center connected and tied with a silver clasp behind her head. The braids indicated her rank amongst the Guards of Mirkwood; her station. The dark and light greens she wore, indicating that she was both of royal ancestry and ranger to his lands, were covered with brown and red leathers.

There was ferocity to her movements. Her chartreuse eyes were narrowed and appeared darker as she concentrated on her blows. She continued at a brutal pace, never letting down even as her muscles began to burn. It was like a dance of flames

What did the King see in her? A mistake? A fluke? Isilmë was a warrior, a ranger, a guardian... a protector. But the Valar be damned! Thranduil's little party of counsel members and repentant healers were making her life miserably hard. Not only was she juggling being the head of household as she lived alone with her sister, she was also a ranked Knight of the Guard and now healer in training.

A shuffle of vines and leaves slightly crushing caught her attention and she immediately brought her blade behind her. Isilmë almost cut into someone's jugular, the tip nearing their jaw had her blade not been stopped by one more skilled. Her chartreuse eyes were narrowed until she pushed away with mild force, staring into cold-like blue eyes.

Thranduil stood before her, donned in a simple circlet and all royal robes left behind. His tunic was plain in design, yet spoke of his rank with it's fine silk. They stared at one another in silence, measuring the other and their intention. Isilmë's eyebrow rose in mild surprise as he swung his sword in hand. He was alone. Circling around her like a predator.

For each step he took she mirrored. Was he to test her? To show Isilmë her place for going against his words? Why was he here? Was her going to punish her?

"Show me your worth." His words caught her off guard as he swiftly came at her. Isilmë rolled out of the way in time as Thranduil's sword paved against the floor. Did he regret taking her under his wing? Is that why?

Isilmë didn't have much time to ponder as she dove into another roll before kicking up gravel and leaves. She used the sound of the earth around her as best she could to disguise where her next swing would come from. Thranduil stood over her, their blades meeting again before she growled and kicked at his knee unexpectedly.

Thranduil grunted, not expecting her sudden movement as he staggered forward for but a moment. Isilmë has used the knee she kicked to twist herself out of his reach and flip backwards into a crouch. Her elven blade was behind her as she changed momentum and sprinted at the King.

Sparks flew as blade clashed against blade. It wasn't often that Thranduil would spar... and it was even rarer to find someone dimwitted or brave enough to _actually _hit him. "My worth?" Isilmë questioned him as their faces neared because of the clashing contact. A bittersweet smile adorned her lips as she looked away. "Your _pets _have made it clear that I am unworthy of your teachings or time."

They both jumped backwards and away from each other simultaneously. Thranduil glared at her. He would try a different tactic then. He was not king by birthright alone. And he would let her comment slide...

"You did not show up."

"For another failed attempt?" Isilmë's voice was covered with thick sarcasm as she twirled her blade. "I am sorry, _my Lord_, but my skills are better suited elsewhere."

Thranduil was taken aback for a moment. After six months she had reverted to calling him by a title again. After their banter and her courageous -or ill minded- effort to befriend him, she called him lord once more. "You know nothing," was his bitter reply.

Isilmë could see the anger spark behind his eyes. They both knew she was upset as well. With herself. With him for letting it get this far. For his 'pets,' as she so graciously pointed out, not giving her time's rest to learn. For always interrupting. For always being there.

"I know of my failure!" She yelled before running at him at full speed with her sword at at her side. Isilmë was not arrogant, but she knew when her skills were being foiled. She hated being held back, and she'd do that no more. She would not allow this to continue.

Thranduil and Isilmë danced back and forth. Their blades sung to the high heavens like cymbals clashing together. He would not lie to himself, he was impressed with her blade wielding skills. And he had to commend her for actually trying to fight him, even if he was a King... That was probably what he admired about the ellelth. She would have her moments of shy or weakness when it came to him and protocol, and other times she was like a wildfire; treating him like an equal and sharing what was on her mind.

Thranduil was not one to ever make mistakes; but, the elleth was currently to unpredictable in her state of mind that he miscalculated as he reached out to her with one hand.

Isilmë's eyes widened in shock before her blade fell to the floor. Thranduil held one of her wrists near his face as the other held his own blade against her neck. A gasp escaped her lips before he felt the sting and warmth like tears trickle down to his jaw from his perfect cheekbone.

"Thranduil!" Her voice was breathless and in pain at what she had accidentally done. How was she to ask for his forgiveness now? He could easily have her taken to the cellars for this! It could go as far to be considered treason for attacking the King, sparing or not.

Regardless, Thranduil opted for a different route.

"Heal it."

Isilmë stopped her movements as he released her wrist and sheathed his sword. His eyes never left her own, but his were steeled and perfected to give off the air of superiority as he studied her. He was better trained at concealing anything his eyes might give off.

With wide eyes the elleth nodded. Right. She had to do this... and if she failed? She dreaded to know the outcome.

Isilmë took in a deep breath and stepped closer to her King with her eyes closed. She needed to find her center. She needed to feel the earth. She needed to see his own life force.

She needed a clear mind.

Thranduil's eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at the elleth before him questioningly. It wasn't until her breathing stabled that he finally understood what she was doing.

Isilmë felt the sensation wash over her like a calm before a storm as lyrics fell from her lips in a whisper. It was an old Quenyan poem her father had learned from a bard many years ago; a song he used to calm her and get her to sleep.

It was through this very song that Isilmë was able to slowly manipulate and transfer healing energies from the earth to herself and channel them to Thranduil.

Through her fear, he was able to manipulate and use her emotions to magnify the simple healing spell. The blood disappeared almost instantaneously as the wound on his cheek closed and healed. Not even a scar was left behind before he felt her head sag against his chest.

He exploited her state of being, both physical and mental. Yet he was proud of the outcome. He gently lifted the exhausted, and now sleeping, elleth into his arms as he whispered, "Do not doubt me. For your worth cannot be measured."

Isilmë. Could she be his salvation and atonement?

* * *

_**A/N:** Thank you to _**Nina Vale**_ and _**MidnightBlood** _for commenting and/or reviewing. I'd also like to thank EVERYONE that has taken their time to read this~ I'm greatly humbled by it. I know I've mentioned it before, I'll mention it again: I do not have a beta-reader so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors. But please do point them out if they're ridiculously huge._


	7. Late Night Visitor

**Late Night Visitor**

"I have been cheated." Isilmë exclaimed, raising her hands into the air. It was nearing midnight, when the moon was at it's highest, and, Isilmë walked back and forth in her chamber. She was currently in the confines of her own home with her dearest younger sister.

"_Cheated_? By the King?" The younger elleth looked at Isilmë in bewilderment, her hands clasped together above her knees.

"By who else?"

"I am sure he meant well." At those softly spoken words Isilmë turned to face her sister, a pointed finger in the air.

"Oh, of that I have no doubt! He manipulated my emotions. Am I still but a child? So easily read; like an open book? I feel as though I were completely bare before his very eyes." Isilmë waved her hands in gesture to her own form as she spoke.

"Dear sister, do not be so harsh on yourself. Our King does not rule because of his lineage alone."

"I know, Aurë." Isilmë paused and then sighed. She closed her eyes and recited what she always told her little sister, pacing once more. "Was it not I who told you of all his triumphs and glory? Thranduil is most benevolent and kind to accept our family as part of his people many years before our time. He has won the hearts and loyalty of our brethren. He is a fine and just King. And he has kept us all safe through his own power alone and not by some ring."

Aurë's expression turned into one of shock. "Thranduil? You mean... _his highness_?" She's never voiced her opinion to the strong headed Isilmë before, but since when was her sister on a first term basis with the King? Was she even _on _a first term basis with him? Oh, what if news of this got out?

"Shush, you. I treat him no different than any friend of mine as I do you." Isilmë dismissively waved her hand and Aurë's worries.

"Me? But we are sisters, and he our King?"

"And?" Isilmë looked at Aurë as if she had grown another head. Was it not normal for one to call their friend by name?

"I fear for you, my dear sister." Aurë hung her delicate head and shook it from side to side. She would have to learn to give up and give into her sister's wild ways. But! She had to try at least. "What if word of this got out?"

"Then I will come to find you, simply." Isilmë threatened Aurë jokingly as she walked over towards her little sister. "You are the only one, besides maybe his son, that knows of this. And it _must_ stay that way." The elder elleth smiled as she combed her fingers through Aurë's hair.

"What must stay what way?" Isilmë's hand froze mid movement before both sisters turned to face the voice of their new intruder.

"My King." "Your highness."

It was not uncommon for elves to have late night visitors, especially if their flames were still on and the doors to their flets open for invitation. It _was_ rare, however, when such a visitor was the King of Mirkwood.

Aurë wasted no time, if there was one thing she had in common with Isilmë, it was her cheekiness. She stood and bowed to her kind before raising her head to meet his chin. Aurë would never dare look him in the eye like her sister did. "She was just explaining to me how much she cherishes what little of your time and presence you are able to bestow upon her."

Isilmë pointedly glared at her sister as Aurë smiled graciously and bowed her head towards their King once more. She turned to face her sister, kissed her cheek and bade both Isilmë and the King a good night. Triumphantly, she left the room with a mischievous smile on her soft features.

This did not go unnoticed by Thranduil. He waited for the youngest elleth to confine herself to her own chambers, door closed and locked before his attention fell on Isilmë. "Is this true?" To anyone else his voice may have sounded accusing since his eyes did not show much emotion; but, Isilmë knew better now. Her time with the King was not as private as they both would have preferred, but they were both able to gleam into each other's personality.

"Of course not." She made sure her tone was resolute, he needn't think any higher of himself.

"Were you not just singing me praise of how I have kept my people safe without the use of a ring of power?" Though the pace of his tone was slow and calculating, there was a mockish tilt to it as he eyed her.

Isilmë eyes widened in shock. "The audacity! To not only be cheated but overheard. Most unbecoming of a King," she spoke teasingly as she stepped before him. "And you must have heard wrong. Never once did those words escape my lips. I once asked the crown prince if there were any healing spell for his eyesight-

"His eyesight?" The King's eyebrow rose in amusement.

Isilmë continued as if she had not been interrupted, but made sure to point it out regardless. "_Yes_. His eyesight. He claimed to see me beautiful. And now you, _my liege_. Is there a spell for your hearing? I fear your senses may be dulling... Perhaps it runs in the family," Isilmë fussed, a thoughtful and faraway look to her eyes as she brought one finger to her lip.

Thranduil chuckled at her musings. Her chatter always seemed to brighten any sour mood he may have had throughout the day. "Perhaps you are right," he decided to entertain her before slowly taking her hand into his own. "Have I troubled you, laurë?" He called her by the endearing nickname he chose for her, meaning 'golden light.' Or at least, that was the only answer as to why he would call her by anything but her given name. It was a topic she had not the courage to ask her friend Legolas about and the only conclusion she came to.

Isilmë's eyes narrowed suspiciously before she looked behind the King from both of his sides. It was times like these where she really did forget about protocol... or about her hand in his own. She eyed him from top to bottom, scrutinized him almost, as she walked toward the door and closed it from behind him. No crown today, Isilmë noted. And he wore a simple tunic with one robe over it. No adornments but the two rings on his hand. He was simply a marvel to stare at. Isilmë knew better than to do such though. "Where are those snakes of yours? Are they not basking in your light and glory this fine day?"

Thranduil's lip quirked before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge between his nose in jest. "Your manners, Isilmë. They are quite repulsive at times. And the day is far from over this night." His deep voice rang clearly in the small room as he glanced at her from the side.

"Ah, but manners are not why you are here. Is it," she questioned him with a smile on her lips. He gave her a short nod as he led her toward a bench to to sit on. "Tea?"

The King sighed and nodded once more as the elleth quickly fetched and prepared an aromatic lavender tea.

"And so, the King comes, riding in the dark to see his beloved. Sneaking away from the prying eyes of pests and snakes. Oh, my friend," Isilmë jested as she came back with a tray of fruits, warm tea and honey. "Why have you not spoken of this desire of yours before? What will you do now? Will you run and hide with me?" Isilmë chuckled alongside the King as she sat next to him. She shared and passed him his own serving once before letting Thranduil help himself. She found out the hard way, when in private, that the King is not someone who waits hand and foot for someone to do things for him. He quite enjoys the simple things as well and is not allowed to bask in them often.

They drank tea and nibbled on some fruits here and there in a comfortable silence before she looked at him expectantly. His silence was as famous as his temper though... At least that was the rumor. "The hour is very late, Thranduil," She questioningly eyed him from top to bottom again. "I appreciate your concern but I understand the predicament of your station. And I apologize for-

Thranduil raised his hand into the air, abruptly quieting her as he closed his eyes and spoke. "No, laurë. My duty as King... I should not have let the council or healers interfere in your learning."

Isilmë quietly sipped her tea before side glancing his profile. "Are you apologizing to me?" She smirked.

Thranduil glared at her from his peripheral before allowing his own smirk to gently ease his features. "Are you becoming deaf as well, dearest? I fear there is no treatment for such, or so I have heard."

Thranduil and Isilmë then stared at each other through narrowed eyes before a smile adorned his lips again and she laughed airily. "You truly are a great friend, my king." She placed her hand above his in a friendly manner. "I see not where these wives tales, as men call it, come from."

Thranduil remained silent as his eyes fell on her hand. He sighed heavily before thanking her for her hospitality and politely excusing himself. Isilmë was left confused at his suddenness. Was it something she had said? No. It couldn't be. But the look in his eyes was so full of turmoil, angst and -dare she say- a pinch of loneliness. He was trying so hard to keep everything to himself. And he was one that never needed to try to do anything. If he wanted to hide emotion, he did. If he wanted to yell or be silent, he did... But within the past couple of months, Isilmë started to notice his well placed walls and how to try and treat his broken soul.

Confused as she was, Isilmë ran after him before he left her home. His hand was near the handle when he felt her -now familiar- arms around him. Thranduil stiffened for but a moment before he felt her head fall to the center of his back. He sighed and gently placed his hand atop hers as she somehow managed to calm the turmoil within his mind. But, he had to leave... This familiarity he was allowing would cost him one day...

"The hour is late, _mellon_."

Isilmë sighed into his back before pressing herself into him and nodding. "Tenna' tul're... Heruamin."

Thranduil could hear the confusion his action were causing through the mere tone of her voice. He berated himself for it as she gently loosened her grip and let her arms drop to her side. "Quel du."

He faced her one last time before bestowing a chaste kiss on her forehead. He allowed the intimate contact of his forehead to slide against hers before he left.

Thranduil had many more problems he needed to contemplate now. It was no longer an act to just train her alone. Though elves lived many thousands of years, this newness he hadn't felt in a while... frightened him.

_****Mellon: Friend  
**_

_****Tenna' tul're: Until tomorrow  
**_

_****Heruamin: My Lord (familiar)**_

_****Quel du: Good Night**_

* * *

_**A/N:** I would really appreciate some feedback on this chapter. I thought really hard on whether or not to post this chapter now. I was thinking on maybe making another installment and add some twists before submitting this one. But I came to the conclusion that the set pace for each character flows rather well so far. :'D And I can add the twists later~ Not everything is Pink and Roses. _

_Thank you to: _**Nina Vale**, **Jessi** _and_ **Guest** (whoever you are) _for leaving me some feedback. I'd also like to thank everyone that had added this story to their favorites and has bothered to read it. So don't be shy please. Let me know what you think~_


	8. Fall Solstice

**Fall Solstice**

"May I have this dance?" The question was followed by a smooth pale hand blocking Isilmë's view. She followed the extended arm and was met with the ever charming, and inviting, blue eyes of the Prince of Mirkwood.

Isilmë contemplated her options with a playful smile tilting at the corner of her lips. She consented, placing her hand in his own. Had it been any other elf, she would have turned them away. All the elves knew of Isilmë's dislike of frolicking and dancing before an audience. It seemed the Valar would take no pity on her this day; but, she would at least make sure to have fun with Legolas. "You may."

The prince chuckled as he pulled her up from her set, the sheer gold and red materials of her dress shuffling behind her beautifully. Disbelief, with a large amount of sarcasm could be hinted in his luring voice as he joked with the older elleth. "You would have refused me?"

"I may have." Isilmë laughed as Legolas held her gently by the hand; a smile on her face as he walked her to the center of the room. Grinning, the Elven-Prince bowed to his dancing partner before bestowing a chaste kiss upon her soft knuckles. Mockingly, Isilmë glared at him as he then proceeded to lead her into a dance. Most of the others that were feasting and celebrating had moved closer to the outskirts, as was custom for when a royal was within their presence -for the first dance at least.

Isilmë rolled her eyes at the ever playful Prince as he easily twirled her, both dancing around each other with elegance and precision. As the bards ended one song, another soon followed. None of the other elves returned to the floor's center yet and Isilmë's eyes met Legolas' blue once more. "Are you not to be dancing with Tauriel?"

Isilmë cocked her head to the side in confusion as she eyed the poor Prince. His blue eyes fell behind her as he kept a smiling facade, one she knew all too well now. "Ada. He-"

The elleth's delicate eyebrows shot up before she lifted a hand and interrupted him. "Say no more, my prince!" Isilmë closed her green-like eyes and chuckled. Isilmë and Thranduil had become student and teacher less than a year ago. They had both become quite close -or as close as they could be with council members and such interfering all the time- as she praised him and called him friend. She even joked with the King and got him to chuckle here and there, which on its own was rare or unheard of. "Today is a new day, full of grandeur and festivities. I shall take care of your father."

With a mischievous wink and a quick twirl, Isilmë allowed her raven black hair to obscure her view for a moment before spotting the redheaded elleth across the room and turning to face Legolas once more. She took hold of both his hands before tugging him along with her toward the outskirt of the floor. Unheard words passed between the elleth and the bards and minstrels that were playing harmoniously together. After a small agreement, a faster tune that was heard once in Lake Town could be heard playing along the caverns of Mirkwood. Isilmë looked back at Legolas and smiled as she pulled him along again.

Without telling him of her plan, she released the Prince and collected the hands of another elleth. Isilmë would do anything for her friends, especially when they were in need of her help. She flitted around the room as if she were dancing in the air and brought more elves onto the dance floor. Legolas was not quite sure what she was up to as he eyed the bouncing ravenette, but he soon realized her plan and began to do the same. A genuine smile quickly made it across his face. Who was to say that the prince could not dance with any and all nobles or commoners if they were all on the floor?

Isilmë and Legolas lost track of the other among all the added bodies. She had quickly worked up a temperature running around as well. Her chartreuse eyes fell around the room as she finally spotted the Prince and her redheaded friend. Smiling to herself for a job well done, Isilmë turned around in search for the King.

Thranduil was quite easy to distinguish compared to his loyal subjects. He always held an air of superiority to him -even without trying- and his height helped immensely. His back was turned to her as she slowly walked over towards him. He seemed to be distracted already by the looks of it, before Isilmë spotted Aurë, her sister.

Isilmë stopped. A sensation she had not felt before, but in the fear of battle, crept up into her chest as she witnessed the sight before her. Thranduil held her sister's hand in his own; a serene smile coating his usually steeled features and his eyes just as soft. Isilmë could not help but notice the slight dusting of pink across Aurë's face as they seemed to not have noticed her yet. Whatever it was they were speaking of, was none of her concern. That was a fact she had concluded.

The elder elleth took a deep and stabilizing breath as she stepped back. She tore her eyes away before searching across the room with a bittersweet smile on her face. She had to leave. She did not understand quite well what was happening within her heart, but she did not like this feeling. This feeling could be described as being consumed whole, of desperation... of being torn. It truly was an unfamiliar feeling the elleth had never experienced in her millenias thus far.

Once the fresh aroma of the night's air filled her lungs, the elleth released a long breath she was not aware she had been holding. She shook her head to try and alleviate the running thoughts across her mind as she made way towards the training grounds. She would overcome this new feeling. If that meant she'd have to beat it out then Isilmë would. If anything, she could do nothing but be content that both Thranduil and her sister were having a good time.

Hastily, she shed her gown in favor of the simple tunic she wore underneath and grabbed an old pair of training daggers. If these horrid thoughts that plagued her mind wouldn't leave her be, then she would tire herself till morning.

* * *

_**A/N: **__I would like to give a continuous shout out and thank you to my fellow readers/reviewers: **Nina Vale, Jessi, Maddy** and** MidnightBlood**. I'd also like to thank everyone that is following and favoring this mini series. I hope to hear your thoughts about this chapter. Thank you again~ -a humbled amateur writer. :__3_


	9. Confusion

**Confusion**

To say that the King did not notice the change in Isilmë's behavior these past two moons would have been an understatement and insult to him. Likewise, Isilmë was sure Thranduil had noticed as well.

Ever since the night at the Fall Solstice gathering, Isilmë saw her sister, Aurë, and the King hand in hand; she had decided to dedicate her time and efforts differently. She was completely resolute in her ways to learn and leave his presence immediately. She would hardly spend time at home either for she'd always find a reason to train or go patrolling before nightfall.

Isilmë made sure to always make small talk with her sister. How her day fared, how her health continued, what she'd done that day. Isilmë found herself to be a completely different person recently, like a youthful child; and it was a change she did not like nor accept very well. It was unbecoming of her to act in such a way.

Isilmë could not quite understand why she was feeling the way she did; but, she knew she could not continue to do so for much longer. The King was her tutor in the healing arts, and as King he had the experience to maybe know what she was dealing with. The thought of even asking Thranduil always made Isilmë shake her head though. Somehow, deep inside, she knew the problem rooted with him.

As the doting sister Isilmë was, she would never stump any possibility of Aurë having a better future. In her own opinion, Isilmë thought she was in her sister's way.

It was during an early morning that Isilmë found herself submerged within one of the rivers that ran through Mirkwood. She had cleared the area previously, everyday for the past two weeks, before she decided to venture there and bathe. Her steed, a dark tanned stallion named Giliath, awaited patiently for his companion as she doused herself in the cold waters.

Isilmë had to admit that the cold water helped numb her skin and mind, which was saying much considering how resistant elves were to cooler temperatures. And yet, even with a numb mind she could not help but think on this new emotion that overwhelmed her senses.

Sighing, Isilmë swam towards the riverbank and sat down. In nothing but a sheer tunic covering her body, clinging to her every contour, she sat down and brought her legs closer to her body. The temperature was dropping quickly now that winter was fast approaching. Dutifully, Giliath trotted behind his loyal friend before kneeling and laying behind her.

She stayed sitting there, with arms crossed over her legs, for what may have been long, precious, silent hours. Her eyes felt heavy and she continued to berate herself. What had happened? Since when was she a love-struck child brooding over-

Isilmë's eyes widened. _Love-struck_? No... _No, no, no, no, no_! She shook her head violently, her hands in her hair as a frustrated whimper escaped her chest. He was her King! He'd have no interest in her... He was just her teacher. Is this why she felt so torn? Because he had shown interest in her sister? Is this why she avoided-?! After so many years of having a widowed King, he finally began to open?

Realization of what was happening began to finally dawn on her. _Her_! Isilmë. The elder of the two sisters. She was supposed to be the more experienced of the two... and yet... She had never once experienced this sensation before. Elves were known for their long lives; for taking years courting and loving... before having or starting a family. Children were few and far between because of how long their lives were.

It was not unheard of for some elves to fall deeply in-love, or to form an emotional connection, faster than what was the norm. But why did it have to be him?! The untouchable male of this kingdom...

Why?

A single tear finally escaped the elleth's green-like eyes, it was one she quickly and angrily swiped away. The shock of her numb fingers against her skin made her gasp at the contrast before warmth suddenly enveloped her like a radiant sun.

Soft, thick silk wrapped around her, now realizing, shivering form. Isilmë instantly recognized the royal material, her hazy chartreuse eyes meeting with -worried?- blue eyes. She looked away and hung her head, ashamed of her sudden behavior. And yet... he was here.

Many thoughts ran through the King's mind, but none could explain why his dear elleth was in this state of mind. It was as if she were fading from a broken heart. The thought alone was strong enough to invoke a painful feeling in his chest. His brow furrowed as he gazed over her cold form before gently lifting her into his arms.

Giliath slowly followed Thranduil and Isilmë as he easily hoisted them both atop his elk. He looked down at the cradled form in his arms before expelling a sigh. He would take the off roads back to his kingdom.

The ride remained silent, that much he expected as he covered her face with the hood of the cloak he previously wrapped her in. Isilmë neither spoke nor looked at him, a bothering feeling compared to her usual fiery personality. Thranduil would curse whoever had done this!

He had made it back home with little to no interruption, making sure to steer clear of any members within his caverns. He brought the elleth to one of his private anti-chambers... One he recalled not entering in many a hundred years.

It was there that he carried Isilmë near the fire's hearth and sat down with her. Not knowing what else to do, Thranduil wrapped his arms around the elleth, warming her from the outside chill she was foolish enough to stay in. He sighed once more before sadly letting his head fall to the back of her neck where he took in another deep breath.

So many memories danced across his mind in this room. Memories he berated. Memories that brought both sadness and anger within them. And yet... these were memories that were currently stilled because of the elleth in his arms.

Isilmë remained quiet. An agonizingly slow torment warred within her mind before a knock drew her attention. Isilmë's eyes widened as a worried looking Aurë entered the anti-chamber with a tray of herbs and tea. Aurë gasped, quickly setting down the tray before almost running to her sister's side.

Thranduil looked up as he eyed the exchange between the two siblings. Aurë lovingly placed her hand on her sister's face, examining her before placing a chaste kiss above her crown. Isilmë, lost in what was happening only remained quiet as her sister looked back and nodded at their King and left.

The slow aroma of her favorite tea began to cover the room before she looked up at her King. His normally well guarded eyes looked almost pained as he gazed back at her, his one arm subconsciously tightening around her as he laid back against the many pillows and throws in the room.

Carefully, Thranduil ran a hand down Isilmë's hair, making her look away from him. The action almost burned before she slowly lowered her head onto his chest and over his beating heart.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she closed her eyes.

There was that tightening in his chest again. He sighed, allowing his head to fall over hers once more before resting his eyes as well. It seemed there was much they both needed to speak about; but, not now. Now, they would both hold this silent agreement and understanding.

* * *

_**A/N:** Special Thank Yous for the reviews/comments: _Nina Vale, Selene Thalia and Dawn's Darkness. _Thank you to all adding the story to your favorite/alerts as well: _94kgirly, Beautiful-Nightmares957, Freja De Mattea, Kelly the Dreamer, KiaraP, Kiley S. Snape, Rychhorse, SparklesJustReads, Verdella, Winter Elvish Rose, bluesocks8, fairyprincess91, nimredel, AM4444, Beau Noir, iCherryBlossom, luckyfourleafcloverlady, lipinrj and truthful-emerald-blood-ruby


	10. Sudden Confession

**Sudden Confession**

A drop of water resonated around the closed atmosphere. Slowly the elleth opened her tired eyes. Once more did she find herself in a strange room, another she had not been in before. A soft, ethereal glow emanated from one side of the room and the sound of water near by made her curiosity peak as she sat up. Expensive silks ruffled and slid off her once frozen limbs, pooling around her, as her raven eyes surveyed the area.

The room was magnificent and vast. White and wheat colored yew and other sacred woods decorated the area. Elks running across different seasons were carved delicately into the bed post and cabinets. Various silks and tapestries layered the walls intricately against the natural golden hue that protruded from the them. The whole of the kingdom could be seen from this underground room as a foyer opened up ahead. There also appeared to be a leak in the wall, but following it's path she noted that it connected to a small basin. The small wash was cut out from the same stone that made up Mirkwood.

Carefully, Isilmë let her legs hang from the side of the bed as she draped one of the blankets around herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remained calm, as if she knew where she was when in reality she did not. Her heart felt heavy still as she stood and took tentative steps toward the basin. She allowed her fingertips to feel the refreshing water within as it carried itself further down another carved path.

Curiosity finally peaked at the raven haired elleth. Why was she in one of the royal suites? Yes, she recognized the area but not the room. She'd walked many times down these halls following Tauriel or Legolas and the entourage of Guards and Knights of Mirkwood. Sighing deeply, she wrapped the blanket tighter around her form for comfort. She noticed at her wakefulness that she wore only the sheer-like tunic from her previous -and delusional- day. She needed answers now...

Her bare feet softly padded down one of the corridors. Her tired mind and physical state of being could be seen in her eyes as she continued thinking about her painful realization. She berated herself constantly for acting this way. She would not be some love-sick child pinning after the King like the rest of the single elleths in the Kingdom! No. She would not let it go further... But why did her soul and heart feel as if she were sinking? Surely she hadn't formed any sort of attachment already, not this soon at least. Elves were known for many things including their long years before finding such a thing as love or a significant other... But it appeared the Valar had other plans with Isilmë's poor soul.

Quickly, Isilmë realized that she was already near one of the throne rooms as she opened one of the doors with shaky hands. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the King already there. He sat with his legs crossed atop some stairs, dressed in different layers of the finest of silks with a faraway gaze in his eyes. There was no audience today as he tried to relax, his one hand under his chin as he contemplated whatever it was he was thinking of.

At the soft sound of the door being opened he quickly stood. His hard gaze fell onto the intruder but quickly softened at the sight of the elleth before him. With calculated steps, he made his way toward Isilmë as she stepped out from behind the door. Confusion still warred in the elleths mind, screaming at her internally as he finally stood a breath's hair away. She dared not even look at him, a noticeable frown making it's way onto her face.

A sigh escaped her as Thranduil silently engulfed her within his arms. The warring immediately stopped as she allowed her head to fall forward near his collar. The King placed one hand behind her neck and the other on her lower back as he brought her closer and flushed against his own body. His eyes examined her slowly as that unknown fear _tried_ to rear it's ugly head back around.

"Sut naa lle umien, mellon?"

Isilmë's closed eyes tightened as she took in a shaky breath. "Mankoi lle irma sint, Heru en amin?" At her question, Thranduil pulled back enough to catch her olive-like eyes with his own blue-gray ones. He took silent note of the warring behind her eyes as she studied his own.

After much silence and deliberation he finally -and carefully- questioned her. "Am I no longer friend to you?"

With pleading and watery eyes, the elleth took in another unstable breath, letting her head fall as she shook it. "Amin hiraetha," she whispered as she gripped onto the front of his tunic. "I-I cannot view you as such. Not anymore."

Thranduil's eyebrow rose in question as he placed his hands on her arms. They both mistook each other's actions as he held her away from him. A cold, protective visage glazed over his eyes as they narrowed. Had he thought differently?

Isilmë looked at him with sad eyes before looking away. "Amin hiraetha. I understand if I am to never be allowed in your presence, but I cannot forsake these feelings the Valar have burdened me with toward you."

His curiosity was peaked at the mention of the Valar. He decided to remain silent and hear her thoughts without letting his hurt turn to anger. Whatever she was feeling was coming from deep within her heart. He knew her words to be true for he had seen the emotions behind her eyes earlier.

"I cannot be friends with someone my heart yearns for," she finally confessed.

Thranduil's mind reeled at the information. He had thought her to be possibly fading out of unrequited love for another elf. It was he, himself, the whole time whom was blind to see her growing affection towards him. Maybe not as blind as he thought... But then, why had she been so distant these past couple of months after the Fall Solstice?

Before Isilmë had the time to react and maybe walk away from the silent King she knew would not return such affections, she was pulled once more into his arms. He cradled her head near his own as he closed his eyes in silent contentment.

"It will be no burden... There is much for us to speak of, melamin."

_****Sut naa lle umien: How are you doing**_

_******__**Mellon: Friend**_

_****Mankoi lle irma sint: Why do you want to know**_

_****Heru en amin: My lord (non-familiar)**_

_****Amin hiraetha: I'm sorry**_

_****Melamin: My Love**_

* * *

_**A/N:** __I want to apologize in advance. This installment is very short and I didn't cover a lot of previous topics that need light shed onto them. I feel as though this chapter isn't well rounded but I was in a bit of a rush to complete this and I really wanted to post something. I promise I'll cover those topics I didn't mention soon~ PS: Thank you to **Jessi** for commenting on the previous chapter~ And thank you to everyone that continues to watch and fave this story. :3_


	11. Resolve

One week has passed since Isilmë's fateful encounter with the Elven King. He has allowed her to wonder silently through his halls without restraint or questions. Without burdening her mind or soul, the King has mostly kept to himself concerning their last informal encounter. He would give her time to heal for it seemed her faë had never been weighed or pained before.

Thranduil had taken time to examine the elleth the night she was frozen and barely coherent. He continued to oversee her every night since, actually. Under normal circumstances hundreds of seasons would pass for elves to form at least half the type of bond she so easily took upon him. Though he'd never voice it aloud, it worried him. Why had she appeared to be fading?

He was not against such ideas... of finally committing to a new life. Thranduil had spent many of his days in contemplation and sorrow. It was through the stubbornness of his son, Legolas, that the King finally relented. Though to this very day, Thranduil was still quite the private male that not even his son knew. No one but Aurë, Isilmë's sister, knew of her condition; and, even then he did not voice or inform her entirely on what had occurred.

"Where is she?!" The abrupt voice that belonged to his son broke him out of the quiet revere Thranduil had found himself in.

Thranduil was secretly irked, though he continued with his facade as he slowly glanced at his son. "Oh? To what do I owe such insolence," he asked as Legolas neared his throne.

"This is no game, ada!" Legolas was furious, he would not fall victim to his father's sway this day.

"You address me arrogantly and then accuse me of games?" Thranduil's leisure drawl spoke much about the patience he had for his son as his eyebrow rose in question.

Said son took a moment to reflect before bowing his head and apologizing to his father. "Please, ada. Where is Isilmë?"

"You assume I know of her whereabouts."

The Prince's brow furrowed as he looked at the King questioningly. "Do you not?"

A long pause passed the two elves as Thranduil looked toward his kingdom with a faraway gaze. "I may... or may not. What concern is she to you...?" The King chose his words carefully, eyeing his son from the corner warily.

Hesitantly, Legolas placed a hand over his own beating heart as he took a step closer to his father. "Ada, you know of my friendship with her... As I now know what love is when I come across it."

Thranduil's clear storm blue eyes quickly fell on his son's mirrored ones that were sometimes described as gray.

Before Thranduil spoke, Legolas continued. "I mean no disrespect, father. But I am not so blind as to not see the affection she hides nor the gentleness in which you see her with. Please, all I ask is to know if she is well. For your sake as well as hers."

The King remained quiet. Whatever thoughts he may have previously had dispersed at his son's careful observations. He was, if anything, touched with how much care Legolas truly held for Isilmë and himself. Not just because he was King or bound by duty; it was sincere.

Thranduil sighed and looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You assume much, Legolas... As for Isilmë, I do not know of her well being." Thranduil paused and looked at his son. "Know that she is taken care for."

Legolas remained quiet as he stared at his father before he nodded. He knew not to badger his father more than what he already had lest Thranduil get angry with him. He understood that he would also get no explanation as to her whereabouts or well being. This was a fact he'd have to agree to for now. Bowing once more, Legolas bid his father a short farewell before dispatching himself from the King's presence.

Thranduil sighed once more. Had it been anyone else...

He looked up once more with resolve in his now hardened eyes. It was time.

* * *

_**A/N: **Thank you to Nina Vale and Jessi for commenting on Ch 10~ For those of you who have a DeviantArt account, you can find me under Aora-li. If you're interested, I have a link there connected to the Index for Encounters with the Elven King. You're more than welcome to leave comments there about things you may have liked to see. EX: Thranduil's and the elleth's first healing session. This doesn't guarantee that I will write them but I will be making a companion fic to this story once it's over. This companion fic is really going to be just the everyday lives. Literally, useless/pointless one-shots that may or may not shed light into certain situations. _

_Anyway, hope to hear from you soon~_

_Thank you. ^^b_


	12. Mela -Love-

**Mela -Love- Pt. 12**

Isilmë was once more within the same anti-chamber she had a minute recollection of ever being in. She sat silently as she contemplated how heavy she had felt elleth was disgusted with herself yet she had no control of how her body and soul had small fire within her still burned and had yet to snuff out. She was grateful for that at least.

The last words she had spoken with the Elven King still resonated within her mind as she allowed herself to sink back into her seat.

_Melamin~_

Had he meant it? A knock near the door caught her attention as a familiar form materialized . He was unmistakable and grand. His presence alone could easily hold the air within the room still; but, as her chartreuse eyes met his own stormy blue ones she automatically felt at ease.

Thranduil had disregarded the multiple layers of silken robes and his crown aside as he entered the room and sat next to Isilmë. Their eyes remained trained on each other as he slowly lifted his hand and removed some raven black colored strands away from the elleth's face, placing them behind her ear. Isilmë's eyes closed as she leaned her head into the warmth of his touch. It was strange how easily he had this ever calming effect on her when others would cower.

She slowly opened her eyes at the mention of her name as she placed her hand on his, keeping it near her face. He cupped her jawline with his long and slender fingers and he gazed at her knowingly. His stare had yet to fully soften as he looked at her, noting that it did not bother her in the least.

"How are you feeling?"

A gentle smile coated Isilmë's lips as she contemplated his question while looking at the unlit hearth. "Strangely better. Though, admittedly... confused."

Silenced passed between the two as she now held his hand on her lap. "Why did you distance yourself after the Fall Solstice?"

Like an immediate burn, Isilmë released Thranduil's hand as she took in a deep breath and kept her trained gaze on the hearth. The King would not have that though. It was clear to see this topic was the root of it all, and they both needed answers. "Isilmë." Thranduil took hold of her hand again, placing his free hand on her waist as he slowly brought her closer. "Look at me, melamin. Do not hide yourself from me."

The name by which he called her did not go anyone else, it would have easily sounded like a command. To her trained ears and senses, as well as the time she had spent in his presence, she recognized it as a request.

Sighing in defeat, Isilmë looked at Thranduil with tired eyes. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed together as she heavily contemplated her next words. The elleth appreciated that he remained quiet, allowing her time to think.

"My-... Thranduil." She corrected herself at the quirk of his eyebrow. A small smile appeared on the corner of his lips as she blushed. That sounded worse than she thought and he knew this!

Isilmë felt like a youngling again, her eyes darting away before she felt him pull her forward. She didn't move much as he circled her with both of his arms, allowing her head to rest near his neck. Gently, he ran his fingers through her long tresses and laid his chin atop her head. He let his other hand fall to the contour of her waist as he sighed and closed his eyes. "You must speak to me, Isilmë. Otherwise, I cannot help you."

Whatever calmness she had originally found within the comforts of his presence left her as she pulled back to look into his eyes. "You. I-..."

Another knock at the door broke her attention as her sister came in with a tray of tea again. Aurë looked at Isilmë and smiled as she set the tray down. Her eyes seemed to twinkle as she looked at her and politely bowed her head to Thranduil afterward.

"You seem better, my sister."

Isilmë's confusion was easily read upon her features. Had she misunderstood something? What was Aurë doing here? And why was she not upset? "I... yes." Her response sounded more like a question; unsure of herself. It was definitely uncommon for Aurë to see Isilmë like this. Ever.

"Hmmm." With a knowing smile, her sister left as easily as she walked in before the King caught her attention again.

"You said earlier you were confused. Of what?"

"I... am not sure anymore. I had thought to distance myself lest I get hurt." Isilmë's eyes remained distant as she spoke. "Yet, it appears I've done worse in doing such."

"There is more," he stated inquisitively. "What are you not telling me," he questioned her, brushing aside some hair again as he brought her face closer to his. He reveled in the sight of her, how her blood flushed her cheeks and exposed neck. Yet he needed to tread carefully, for she was still healing from a self inflicted wound to her soul it seemed.

This was (by far) not proper, for neither of them and yet Isilmë was too lost to go back. A shiver racked her spine as she felt his hot breath run down her neck. "What do you want from me," Isilmë whispered.

"I want to know the truth," he spoke just as softly. "I'd like to make_ this,_" he gestured to their forms. "-formal."

"Formal?" Isilmë interrupted in disbelief.

"If you would have me."

"Have you?"

"So long as you are aware of what this would entail." He brushed his knuckles against the side of her face in a loving gesture as she stared at him with wide eyes.

Recollections of the Fall Solstice danced in the back of her mind. Had she read it wrong?

"Read what wrong?"

Isilmë continued to stare at the Elven King as she brought a hand to her lips. She spoke aloud without meaning to. There was not much she could do now but to tell him the truth. Urgently, she laced her smaller arms around his neck and pressed her form to his. Every muscle, twitch, breath, his warmth; she could feel it all through the thin layers of silk they wore as she rested her head against his clavicle.

Thranduil was at a loss for words at the sudden fire that lit behind her eyes as she practically threw herself at him. But he would remain quiet and not question her as he reveled and basked in her own warmth that was slowly returning with every (stronger) heart beat.

"Of course I would have you," she whispered into the silk of his robe, not daring to look him in the eyes. "I was just... under the impression that your tastes laid elsewhere... That I would have been in the way."

Recognition flashed through Thranduil's eyes as he clearly remembered the night of the Fall Solstice celebration he had held, but he would not chastise her for it. He would remain quiet on that topic as well. The King now had bigger and better things to worry over as a hole he once felt within him began to mend once more.

Slowly, the elleth looked at Thranduil. Curiosity filled her chartreuse green eyes as she did her best to hide the forming smile. "Yes... _my_ King?" The implications of her words was not lost upon them as a smirk danced on his lips.

"So, my little minx has returned," he murmured, his smile growing a bit wider as the storm in his eyes seemed to darken. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. His breath danced across her face as he spoke, like a gentle caress. "If we are to go public, I would have to bring you before the council first." At his mention, he heard her scoff as he continued smiling. It was clear she was under the impression she would be denied. Had this all occurred under normal circumstances, things (perhaps) may have played in her favor. She was still of noble birth, thought he realized he would have wanted her regardless. This was just one less point he'd have to bring up against the council. "They will not reject you, melamin. Your soul is already bound to mine. To deny you now would be to destroy you."

Isilmë recalled the few instanced the King had taught her about the spirit and it's methods of healing... It was the sort of healing that got her here in the first place. She looked away as she processed this new information. Her soul? Already bound to him? She didn't quite understand it all yet. That would be insane. A binding so strong like that took years to form! But- "It is the reason I fell ill," she stated.

Thranduil's hold around her tightened as he allowed his head to fall on her shoulder. The thought almost pained him. "No, young one. You were fading." He corrected her, his muscles tense and his voice barely over a whisper.

Isilmë's eyes widened again as she gazed down at her King. Soothingly, she ran her hand down his hair and back. She could feel his muscles shiver and relax under her gentle touches. She did not have the time to study the effects she had on him now though. It was not the time nor place for such. "Yet I live," she spoke in hushed tones, bringing his face to meet hers. "Because of you. You have saved me twice now... and you continue to do so..." Her eyes searched his own as pain laced in the recess of his eyes, well hidden and locked away until this very moment. "Amin mela lle," she whispered, hesitant against his reaction.

Thranduil searched her eyes for a mere moment as he placed his hand behind her neck and brought her down into a gentle kiss. Her small hands balled the fabric of his robes instantaneously as a magical warmth seemed to spread throughout their bodies, healing whatever void and pain there may have been from the past or present.

****Mela: Love **

****Melamin: My Love **

****Amin mela lle: I love you**

* * *

**_A/N: _**Nina Vale, Jessi _and _Pheonix634_. Thank you so much for your interest/comments in this series~ I want to apologize in advance to all my readers for my sudden disappearance. Though short, I forgot to mention here on ffnet that I was moving and getting a new job and such. I'm still in the process of settling in so I hope it doesn't interfere too much with my writing~_


	13. New Horizons

**New Horizons Pt. 13**

Isilmë was currently walking around the anti chamber she had previously found herself in. How she had managed to disentangle herself from the King was beyond her. There was a lightness to her eyes now that was not there before as Thranduil watched her from his seated perch. Her hand gently ran across the various books or intricate details carved onto the wall as she stopped before the small table used for tea. He watched her as she closed her eyes and inhaled the different aromas. One in particular caught her attention.

"I was not aware you were fond of this tea."

"I am not."

Isilmë repeated his words questioningly as her gaze flitted toward Thranduil. "Why, then, do you have it? It is not a commonly liked one."

"Yet you do." He answered simply. An amused smile spread thinly on his lips as he regarded her.

The elleth's eyes narrowed, a strange twinkle to them as she became suspicious of the King. However, she wouldn't lie and say she wasn't pleased, just curious. "How do you know this?"

Thranduil chuckled as he neared the elleth, running his strong and slender fingers through her raven black tresses. His gaze followed the sheen that seemed to reflect off each strand of hair with a serene smile before looking at her coyly. "I am King, Isilmë. Is it not obvious I take into respect the likes and dislikes of my people?" His smile seemed to widen as confusion and bewilderment was read upon her features. Surely he didn't take the time to learn the likes and dislikes of _all_ his people...

"You jest."

He scoffed and looked away for but a moment before smiling at her again. "Of course. It was your sister whom I inquired about you... On the night of the Fall Solstice."

Isilmë reaction was immediate as it was gauged by the King. She looked startled for a moment. He knew where her thoughts had been without being reproachful or bringing it up in a way that would make her feel inferior. Her gaze lowered as her cheeks became a rosy color, the skin on her chest dusting a pink hue as well.

"None of that, melamin," Thranduil whispered, placing his hand under her chin as he bestowed a chaste kiss upon her heated cheeks. Through his actions the King conveyed that she had no reason to be embarrassed.

Regardless of his encouragement, Isilmë found herself pouting. "How long have you know?"

"Long enough."

Isilmë scoffed at his answer, in mimic to his previous action. "I should not be surprised," she sighed.

"You should not."

"Yet I am."

"You are."

Isilmë paused, her eyes narrowing as she looked into Thranduil's stormy blue eyes. "Are you mocking me?"

Another smile graced his lips as he shook his head. "Of course not."

"You _are_ mocking me!" She pulled back accusingly, tapping her hand against his shoulder. "Best get that smirk off your face before I beat you at sparring again," the elleth smiled rather smugly as another twinkle seemed to shine in his eyes then.

"Is that a challenge? I do not recall you 'beating' me last we sparred. If I recall, I had to carry you back inside."

"Only because you made me heal you," Isilmë retorted. "Besides, you have to admit... my skill is far quicker than yours."

The elleth remained quiet, struggling to not smile as they stared each other down. She didn't last long before she broke out in a soft chuckle.

Thranduil smiled once more as he brought the elleth closer to him, encircling his arms around her as he shook his head.

A knock at the door the King was not expecting interrupted the pair's moment. Any and all traces of the once jesting King disappeared as his face transformed into his normal stoic expression.

The elleth recalled her duties rather quickly as second nature took over, and though she was on leave because of Thranduil, she stood at her rightful place behind him. He spared a side glance at her before gently taking Isilmë by the forearm an pulling her to his side. It was not lost upon her what the significance of this status meant as the Guard was allowed in.

With reverence, a tall and fair elf dressed in ranger gear neared them and bowed. The male, Isilmë recognized as one from her squadron, respectfully avoided looking at them both directly as he waited for Thranduil's permission to speak.

With a gesture of the King's hand, the elf began explaining the breech in the southern border. Giant Spiders, apparent spawns of Ungoliant, were amounting together and attacking their scouts. So far, five elves were severely wounded and there was one death casualty.

Isilmë internally bristled at the news as the elf left. The prospect of having a war with these immortal spiders gave her an edge she normally felt in the heat of battle. She had not been able to do her duty for quite some time since she fell ill, per say... Though she wasn't sure what her new title would entail or if the King would even allow her to leave now.

Isilmë looked at her King once the doors closed and they were left in private once more. The serious gleam that entered her eyes was enough for Thranduil to know what her next words were going to be. Admittedly, he didn't want to hear them.

"You must let me go with my Captain and the rest of the Guard." Thranduil sighed as she spoke and looked away. "Thranduil," gently, Isilmë reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. "Melamin," she slowly reached up and brought his face to hers as she neared him. "This, what we have, this can wait until it is brought up with the council... But not our people. I am still a Knight underneath all of this. This is who you chose and I never change. The safety of the kingdom, of my King and home, come first."

Isilmë searched Thranduil's eyes as the steeled gleam began to melt away. He closed his eyes then, pressing his forehead to hers. "I would not have you any other way."

Isilmë smiled as she closed the distance between them one last time before she hurriedly left to her quarters to prepare.

This infestation of arachnids will learn to rue the day they enter his Kingdom, and interfere with his personal life, for the last time.

* * *

_**A/N: **I had actually written the previous chapter a while back, but with the moving and all I hadn't the chance to post it here in ffnet. I apologize profusely. Originally, the series had been coming to a close end with the last chapter but my muse, Thrandy in this case, decided to finally cooperate in this chapter. Thank you, _Jessi_, for both leaving a review and inquiring about me. And thank you _Nina Vale_ for always having Legolas's and Thranduil's best interests at heart. Hope to hear for you all -and some- again~_


	14. For Our Realm

**For Our Realm Pt. 14**

Isilmë ran across the dark forest clearing at top speed. Horses, elves, glints of different metals, the sound of hooves, the hissing of spiders. Her immediate surrounding was chaos as she brandished a very clean and even cut to her enemy's abdomen. The beautiful gleam that shinned from her current weapon spoke of elegance and of certain death. Familiar power almost radiated from the pale blade. It's Elvish make was clear with the inscribed runes that were inlaid onto it.

_"Take my blade."_

_"Your blade," she gasped in bewilderment, astonished at his request. His steely eyes regarded her carefully as he unsheathed his sword from it's scabbard and took a step closer to her._

Dark silver cloths and gray leathers detailed and tailored with armor shielded her lithe body as she spun on the balls of her feet, planting a swift punch to a spider's face before an arrow caved through one of it's eye sockets. It immediately reeled back in pain. She'd make note to thank her fellow Guard members later as she assaulted the giant spider with an efficient and painless death, a merciful kill versus the agony it had been experiencing seconds ago.

_Isilmë's chartreuse eyes met with Thranduil's as he was but a breath's inch away. He had come to the resolve to send her of his own accord, lest she run off against his wishes regardless of what he ordered. His home. No. Their home. He had realized she would do anything to keep him and his people safe. The thought alone had brought a sense of pride in him as he gently held her hand in his. He bestowed his blade to her, reaching for her face with his now empty hand as he continued to speak with an authoritative tone._

So far, the tide of the battle was in the favor of the elves as they pushed their enemies back. These immortal spiders would rue the day they came to to Mirkwood, forever Greenwood to her heart and the heart of her people. But for everyone one they downed, she soon realized, three more would surface. Skill and ability could only take them so far before spirit and stamina depleted. Immediately, Isilmë crossed her own blade with Thranduil's into a defensive stance as a clawed leg swiped down and over her head. Her helm glinted from under the cloak she wore for a mere moment before she disappeared under the arachnid's belly. It reared back, confused as to where the elleth had gone before a strangled hiss escaped it. Isilmë sliced and rolled away quickly before any of it's digestive fluids fell on her, it's corpse falling heavily behind her as her sensitive ears caught a distressed clamor.

_"Take it... So that you may honor me in battle. So that our enemy knows that it was_ I _who sent you. So that the whole of the forest..." His voice trailed off as he caressed her cheek. His gaze fell to her lips as he brought her flush against him and bent over to meet her height._

The elleth quickly whipped around, maneuvering over corpses and fallen limbs as she exchanged weapons and expertly tossed one of her strapped daggers onto the back of an assailing spider. It also turned to face her, giving the other elf the momentum needed to severe the legs and then the head right off the spider. Isilmë jumped, landing on top of the now fallen enemy as she nodded once toward her ally in arms. She proceeded to rip the dagger out, sheathing it before a massive weight collided against her. A frustrated snarl escaped her lips as she held back another giant spider's fangs away from her face with her bare hands. A cry of agony escaped the elf she had just help rescue as she fought her own battle. Enraged, the elleth used the emotion to strengthen her resolve as she ducked once, her shoulder now sliced, as she took a hold of Thranduil's sword and stabbed upright. Brown, murky and sticky fluids fell over her neck and chest before another sword came to help.

_"So that the whole of this realm... knows you are mine," his whisper heated her flesh as he lavished her with a parting kiss._

Isilmë used what strength she had to push the carcass off as another arrow flew close to her face. Not needing another warning, she pushed off and rolled, holding both swords in hand once more as she continued her firey dance of blades. In that moment, the arrival of the Prince and his cavalry was heard across the clearing as another arrow zipped through the air. The war cries intensified with heated vigor as strength returned to the weakened. Isilmë caught the blur of golden hair as she gathered her bearings and quickly made for higher ground. Like a swarm of ants overrunning a fresh field of fruits did the elves cleanse the area. A self satisfied and hard look entered her calculative eyes as she took in the sight before her.

The elves were one step closer to helping their home recover. But at what cost? All the blood shed. All the warring. Even she was not without wounds... And yet, there was also that nagging feeling in the back of Isilmë's mind. Where was the rumored Spawn of Ungoliant?

A creaking noise of wood bending and breaking shook the branch she found herself on as she quickly turned to face her adversary. It was bigger than any arachnid she had ever laid her bright and green-like eyes on; with more eyes and fangs than imaginably thought possible. An involuntary shudder that felt like an ice cold dagger swept down her spine as it launched itself to her.

The duo fell into the air and down toward the ground. Each figure was latched, one onto the other, by sword and fangs until they became a heap on the ground.

* * *

_**A/N: **I'd like to thank NothingNooneZero, Nina Vale and jessi for commenting on my last chapter. I'd also like to apologize for my monthly absence. Aran Thranduil Oropherion hasn't exactly been forgiving with me lately either. But he did finally keep me up almost all night whispering ideas for this installment. Life has also been rather hectic and crazy lately but I hope you all enjoyed it. Please R &amp; R, I'm curious of your thoughts~_


	15. Encounters Recollected

**Encounters Recollected Pt. 15**

"-Down, toward the ground we both fell. My swords against it's vile fangs and hairy, monstrous legs!" Isilmë made an upright motion with her arms, as if she were wielding those very blades she spoke of just now. Two little gasps were heard before Isilmë's name was spoken with a warning undertone. "And then your naneth was, unfortunately, caught telling _horrid, horrid _bed time stories of days past."

"Ada!" The two little voices jumped at the sight of their father, giggling as they instantly ran to his side before dashing past him once they caught sight of their older brother. "Honeg," the twin boys sang together as they crashed into the taller blonde. One with dark raven-like hair and the other as pale and gold as wheat. Both children had the regal storm and steely blue of their father and eldest brother's eyes. Legolas chuckled at the expression on their father's face as the children clung to him instead. He gave Isilmë a small grin before departing and whisking Araglas and Celeêl away with him.

Isilmë gazed at her husband expectantly, the jewel hanging from his collar similar in design to the mithril ring worn on both their index fingers. Thranduil's eyes softened as he gazed at her and her lovely beauty. The same fire in her eyes from years ago was still there, he noted as he trailed his eyes down her face. The Elven King stood near his seated wife, gently caressing the side of her face with the back of his hands. His knuckles gently ran across her cheek bone, down the curve of her jaw and collar bone. His light in his eyes dimmed as the perfect skin under his hand seemed to deteriorate away, leaving behind a dark, violet and angry scar behind on Isilmë's flesh.

Isilmë smiled, placing her hand over his, breaking his thoughts and catching his eye. "It has been over three decades since the encounter, my King. Am I not as whole as you, melamin?" Slowly, the elleth rose. She instantly leaned against the warmth radiating from Thranduil as he held her hand with his own and caressed her arm with the other. Their noses almost touched at the proximity, and the heady scent which was always her surrounded him as she calmly raised a hand to his left cheek. It had taken years for his barriers to slowly crumble near this beautiful elleth, whom had accepted him wholly even before her own unfortunate encounter with an immortal enemy.

"No," he whispered to her. "You are more than whole..." He kissed her then, loving the sensation of her supple lips as they molded to his own. He reluctantly pulled back, knowing full well how quickly their interactions now escalated when the opportunity arose (and when distractions were no longer present.) His, already, clear yet dark eyes seemed smoldering as he gazed at her. Her skin prickled and heated under his ministrations. She smiled at his attentions as he continued to speak. "You are perfect. I should have claimed you sooner," his voice remained low as the sun settled in the background. "Two decades of war and you avoided me." She smiled at his reminder as he narrowed his eyes at her and smirked. "Two decades of war and you never once wore the ring I gave you."

A pout easily made it's way to Isilmë's lips as she placed her hand behind his neck. "You know, as well as I, that I wore it."

"Not as intended," he interjected as he slowly brought forward the ornate mithril links around her neck. She still kept the ring of their time betrothed on a chain, and that thought alone made him smile possessively as he remembered their celebrated union. He remembered her father arriving from Rivendell to place their hands together, while blessing and invoking mother Varda and father Manwe as their witnesses. He remembered the night he finally explored her mind, body and soul. How willing and fiery she was, even then, as they exploited one another. The final feeling of filling her with his own essence as he claimed her as his and his alone. All of these thoughts plagued his mind once more as he regarded her.

"What are you thinking of," she questioned, her smile turning devious as she brought him down for another kiss. Her hands played freely with the strands of hair on the back of his neck as his arms wrapped around her and tightened.

"Of renewing our marriage."

"Thranduil!" Isilmë chided as he smiled down at her. And it was a free smile, one without the worries or stress of a King. It was one where he could finally open up and let himself fall... over and over again. Into her awaiting arms.

**~Fin~**

* * *

**Author's Note: ** HA! I bet you all weren't seeing _that_ coming! Anyway, please send me a PM or email (info on profile) if you're interested in future One-Shots/Filler Episodes between these two lovely characters. (you have but one extra click to go, and then you can flame me all you want for doing this horrible thing to you, your feels (and hormones for some of you.)

As you all know, this has been a fantastic journey for me. It's the first series I've ever written on a whim and completed. It's also my first writing that I've really shared. I'm quite proud and happy with the ending, so I hope the time jump wasn't too surprising by this point considering they've happened in past installments (as well as having companion fics in mind.)

I'd like to take a moment to thank EVERYONE that has commented, faved and read this. To thank everyone for going on this journey with me as well. I would have never completed it without all of you guys' enthusiasms and support.

I especially want to thank Tarnisis aka Lyn Harkeran, because she was the first to ever read Encounters with the Elven King and cheer me on. Her enthusiasm and cheerfulness had me literally popping the first 4 installments out on a weekly basis or less. She also inspired me to post my stuff and have self confidence about posting my writing (not like I'm not full of shit and self confidence as it is.) But when it comes to writing, things are different. This is personal stuff. A reflection of me. Of who I am. A part of me. (Maybe not on some freaky emotional or past experience level, but still.)

Lastly, thank you Ada Tolkien, for presenting us with these wonderful characters that we get to play with. And Peter Jackson, for giving us better eye candy than the animated series ever did.

*does a little happy dance* Here's everyone that commented on this journey, in order~

Nina Vale, MidnightbBlood, Guest, jessi, Selene Thalia, Dawn's Darkness, Phoenix634, NothingNooneZero and lauren souliere.

All rights to their respective owners. All I own is the plot.


End file.
